


Faith

by CantSpeakFae



Series: The Scars Souvenir [24]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Episode Revisit + Revision, Missing Scene, Written from Xander's P.O.V
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 19:34:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18372662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CantSpeakFae/pseuds/CantSpeakFae
Summary: He's never been this scared before...  he’s never seen anyone look as deranged as Faith does.





	Faith

Xander feels… odd when Buffy breaks down the news to him. Odd like something’s happened on a freaksome scale that he’s not fully equipped to understand, because… well, Slayers are heroes. They don’t kill innocent people and if they do uh, hurt them, they feel _bad_  about it. Buffy almost lost her mind when she thought she killed Ted, and that was a guy who had hit her before she did it and turned out to be a robot. How could Faith be so…  
  
Giles and Willow are talking plans while Xander is just lost in thought.   
  
“You mean, like that intervention thing you guys did on me? As I recall, Xander and I nearly came to blows.” Buffy says, and the sound of his name jerks him back into the conversation.   
  
“Uh, _you_  nearly came to blows, Buffy. I nearly came to loss of limbs.”   
  
“No,” Giles says, jumping in. “Faith is too defensive for a confrontation like that. She’ll respond better to a one-on-one approach.”   
  
That’s a good idea. A great idea, actually. Xander sits upright and nods his head eagerly.   
  
“Well,  _I_  can be the one… on her one.” Xander says, earning himself confused looks. “Let’s rephrase. I think she might listen to me. We kind of have, um, a connection.”   
  
“A connection? Why would you think that…?” Buffy asks, giving him a puzzled look.   
  
And Xander’s a little miffed. Buff isn’t the only one in town who saw the fun side of hangin’ with Faith. The two of them really had a moment. And it was over quickly, because of the impending apocalypse, but it was there and it was real.   
  
“I’m just saying it’s worth a shot. That’s all.”   
  
Buffy and Willow exchange a look. That, “Xander is way outta his league, here” look and he frowns, annoyed. Why doesn’t anyone ever believe that he can handle things?   
  
“No, I don't, I don't see it, Xander. I mean, of, of all of us, you're the one person arguably that Faith has had the least contact with.” Giles says, shaking his head.   
  
Okay, so literally no one knows that he and Faith had their moment. That actually kinda makes him feel surer. If Faith didn’t go around bragging or talking badly about him, after, maybe it meant somethin’ special to her, too. He straightens up, some.   
  
“Yeah, but we hung out a little… recently. And she seemed to be, um… responsive.”   
  
“When did you guys hang out?” Buffy asked, still skeptical.  
  
“Oh, she was fighting one of those, uh, apocalypse demon things, and I helped her. Gave her a ride home.” Xander said, not jumping straight to the “and we boinked” thing. It was his first time - doesn’t wanna give all the details. Private things.  
  
“...And you guys talked?”   
  
Xander shakes his head. “Not extensively. No.”   
  
C’mon, Buff. Take the freakin’ hint.  
  
“Then why would you…” Buffy starts to say, but understanding dawns in his expression and her eyes widen. “Oh!”  
  
Giles suddenly gets it too. “Oh.”  
  
Everyone looks to Willow, waiting for her to complete the chain, but Willow looks up with sadness in her eyes. Sadness that Xander doesn’t really understand. “I don’t need to say oh. I got it before. They slept together.”   
  
A long silence follows and Xander tries not to focus too much on how sad Willow looks - that’s not a road he’s going down, again. They were a thing, for a brief and shameful period of time where they were both hurting the people they loved. But Willow is with Oz, again and hopefully forever this time, and Xander is moving on too. They should both be glad, right?   
  
“Fine, fine. Let’s move on.”   
  
“Alright. Look, I-I know that you mean well, Xander, but, um, I-I just don't see Faith opening up to you.” Buffy says, her tone growing gentle. Almost insultingly so. Almost like she’s explaining that clouds aren’t made of cotton candy to a five-year-old. “She doesn’t take the guys that she has a... 'connection' with very seriously. And they're, they're kind of a big joke to her. No offense.”  
  
“Oh, no! I mean, why would I be offended by /that/?” Xander asks, raising his eyebrows.   
  
“However, i-if you still want to be of assistance, I, I, I need some help with research. There's still the business of the Mayor and Mr. Trick to attend to…”  
  


* * *

  
And that’s how Xander ends up in the library, sitting on the steps up the stacks, glumly going over his conversation with Buffy. Over and over again. ‘She doesn’t take the guys that she has a ‘connection’ with very seriously. And they’re, they’re kind of a big joke to her.’   
  
And he has to wonder… is he a joke to Faith, or is he a joke to all of them? Buffy’s face had twisted with secondhand embarrassment and she’d slapped a half-hearted “no offense” on top of, of _that_  like it would somehow take the sting out of her immediate assumption that whatever he had with Faith meant absolutely nothing to her.   
  
And why would she think that? She didn’t even like Faith when she first rolled into town. How close could they have gotten the last few times they started actually hanging out, together? How much bonding and sharing could they have done? Did Faith tell her that sleepin’ with Xander wouldn’t or didn’t mean anything, or did Buffy just assume because _she_ is so sure that no one would wanna sleep with him, let alone mean anything by it if they did?  
  
There had been disgust in her expression, underlying the “gentle” delivery of the fact that he was apparently a “joke”. And even Giles had been stumbling and awkward about it. First so sure that Xander didn’t mean anything to Faith because they never hung out… and then still sure that he meant nothin’, cause Buffy said Faith wouldn’t care.   
  
Just tossed him into research duty without actually givin’ him anything to look up, cause it’s not like they have books on the mayor, in here. Well, at least nothing that wasn’t probably approved by him. Not likely that he put his list of evil plans in his biography.   
  
Xander shifts on the step, swallowing hard and deeply regretting ever telling them about it. He shouldn’t have - he should have just made an excuse and gone on his own, later, to talk to her. Would give anything to take back the words he shared with them because now his memory of sex with Faith - his good, happy memory - feels sour and shameful.   
  
And that sucks. Because they did have a connection - they DO have a connection - and it’s not just about them sleeping together. Xander sees. He always sees what other people don’t and now, he sees things in Faith that he recognizes in himself. That simmering-just-below-the-surface anger, the pain that she hides behind snark and indifference, the way she’s always on edge. And he guarantees that she’s seen her fair share of someone smacking her across the mouth and tellin’ her just how little she means.   
  
And if his best friends in the world couldn’t stand his casual mention of having had sex, then how is he supposed to tell them that Tony Harris gave him a first class lesson in what it means to be an unwanted kid? And that he sees his pain reflected in Faith?   
  
He can’t.   
  
He won’t.   
  
But he won’t just sit there, either. He sees the pain in Faith like he wishes someone would see the pain in him, and he’s not gonna sit there, waiting for the rest of his friends to get it. Because they won’t. They never did for him, so why would they get there for her?   
  
There’s only one thing to do. No matter how hard it’s gonna be, or how wrong it could go if he backs her up into a defensive position… he has to try. He has to try for her. Let her know that she’s not alone and there’s someone who gets it.   
  


* * *

  
Xander feels weak in the knees when he raises his hand to knock on the door to Faith’s motel room, his stomach flipping and slipping like he swallowed a whole buncha oil, but he knocks anyway and focuses on breathing evenly so he doesn’t clutch up and lose control.  
  
She swings open the door and stares at him. No surprise to see him there - she just looks bored.   
  
“What?”   
  
“I just, uh, came by to see how you are, actually,” Xander says, swallowing hard, and feelin’ intensely awkward about standing there, in front of her.   
  
The last time that he’d been on this doorstep, he’d been mostly undressed. He wonders if she’s remembering that too or if… if maybe Buffy was right, and she’s already forgotten about it.   
  
“I’m sick of people asking me that, for one thing.” Faith snaps at him.   
  
Silence falls between them. It stretches until it threatens to snap and then Xander tries again.  
  
“Can I come in?” He asks, before realizing that she might think he’s just lookin’ for round two. He’s gotta prove that he’s not that kinda guy to her. “Just to talk, I promise.”  
  
Faith just raises her eyebrows, a sardonic smirk making the corners of her mouth twitch. That’s not a good sign, though. “Like you could make something happen if I didn’t want it to?”   
  
She’s so… flip about the idea of him possibly attacking her. Trying to force her into something, and Xander thinks that he was right about the pain he saw in her, only that he really fell short on the extent of it. But he can relate to that, too, in a way. Ms. French comes to mind.   
  
“Hey, yeah. Got me there. Pretty much not gonna try to... take you under any circumstances.” He says, holding out his arm. Trying to make her laugh. “See, here, feel that. Probably like a wet noodle to you, huh?”  
  
Not his best joke ever, but Faith steps aside. Giving him room to come in. “Five minutes.”  
  
“That's all I need,” Xander says, then again realizes how she _could_  take that. She closes the door behind them and he quickly clarifies. “For talking and conversation. I'm, um, quick as a bunny.”  
  
Also bad wording. Faith doesn’t make the obvious joke, though, just turns off her TV and looks back at him. Waiting. “Clock is running.”   
  
“It's just, uh... I heard about what happened, and I thought you might need a friend.”  
  
And he’s hoping that he can be that friend. But he probably doesn’t have to clarify that. Or, maybe he does. Should he just hold up a sign that says, “I’m not here for more sex, I just want to help.” It’d probably save him the anxiety of his words being taken the wrong way. Giles’ is right. She’s fragile right now and the last thing she needs is some hunk of idiot making her feel pressured.   
  
“So, then, go talk to Buffy. She’s the one who killed a guy.”   
  
“Yeah, I heard that version,” Xander says, quietly.   
  
Faith is not amused. “Version?”  
  
Okay. No, no, no. Not time to jump into accusations. He doesn’t want to make her defensive. He knows enough from the last time he tried to help a Slayer with her issues that accusations just lead to near-death experiences.   
  
“Either way, i-it sounds like it was an accident, and that's the important part.”  
  
Faith is still not having any of it. In fact, she looks angry now. She’d almost pass for injured by the accusation if Xander couldn’t see the calculation in her dark eyes.   
  
No, the important part is that Buffy is the ‘accidental murderer’.”  
  
Okay. This isn’t working. Just gotta jump into the part where he tells her that he gets her and maybe they bond, a little. That could make things easier - maybe she’s treatin’ him like this because she thinks he’s like Buffy, with a good mom and nice house. Someone who couldn’t get what it’s like where she comes from. But he can and he does and he just has to make her see that.   
  
“Faith, you may not think so, but I sort of know you.”   
  
She’s staring him down, now, and Xander chews on his bottom lip. Should he roll up his sleeves, show her the bruises that weren’t caused by demons? Scars of old cigarette burns or from where a shard of broken glass cut into his skin when Tony threw another bottle at him? Or is it enough that she has probably seen the signs in him, too, the signs that he saw in her? Something that says, “I’ve been hurt” like a flashing neon sign that you have to have been there to see?   
  
“And I've seen you post-battle. And I know firsthand that you're, um, like a wild thing. And half the time, you don't know what you're doing.” His voice is shaking slightly and he hopes that she doesn’t notice or will at least pretend not to.  
  
“And you’re living proof of that, aren’t you?” Faith asks. It’s the obvious insult, more of Cordelia’s bag than hers. Faith usually hits lower and harder than that. And he thinks the slip is proof that she’s listening.   
  
He takes a breath. “See, you’re trying to hurt me. But, right now, you need someone on your side. What happened wasn't your fault. And I'm willing to testify to that in court if you need me.”  
  
Which is kinda the worst offer in the world, because how would it even get that far and what would he say? Faith is a Slayer, accidents happen, sorry your honour? Faith must think that it’s fuckin’ stupid, too, because she plasters on a plastic smile, something dangerous making her eyes light up.  
  
“You'd dig that, wouldn't you?” She asks, giving him a simpering look. “To get up in front of all your geek pals and go on record about how I made you my boy toy for a night.”   
  
That doesn’t even make sense - they didn’t have sex the night that Faith accidentally killed that guy. Xander pales and shakes his head.   
  
“No. N-n-n-n-no, that’s not it.”   
  
He’s losing her. She’s already decided that he’s just trying toy with her and he doesn’t know how to make himself more genuine.   
  
“I know what this is all about.” She says, stepping closer. “You just came by here cause you want another taste, don’t you?”   
  
No! He flinches when she touches him because now she’s lumping him together with all the other guys - the ones who just wanted their ten minutes of fun with her. And that’s not what this is. He wants to help her and being touched or touching her when she’s thinking of him like that makes him feel oogy. He takes a step back and shakes his head.   
  
“No! I mean, it was nice. It was great. It was kind of a blur. But, okay, someday, sure, yay, but not now. Not like this.” He says, trying desperately to get her to back off without hurting her feelings.   
  
Rejection can sometimes make things worse and he’s reminded of that time he accidentally roofied the whole town and every girl he said no to tried to kill him. But Faith isn’t letting up, and her smile isn’t fading. It’s just growing more sinister. She suddenly grabs the back of his head and it hurts.   
  
“More like how then? Lights on or off? Kinks or vanilla?” She purrs to him.  
  
Bad touching. Why is it always bad touching? Ms. French’s bug hands caressing his face while she laughs maniacally in his face, telling him to kiss her while she’s minutes away from raping him. Ampata gripping him hard and sucking the life outta his body. Every woman in Sunnydale, including Buffy’s mom, touching his shoulders, his chest, his face, wanting him, threatening him, trying to  _kill_ him.   
  
And her dirty talk isn’t helping. He shakes, suddenly realizing that this is a for real thing that’s happening. Not just a few minutes of surreal sex where she gets her rocks off and boots him outside. No one knows he came here. He’s completely at her mercy.   
  
He jerks away from her. She _l_ _ets_  him. “Faith…come on. I came here to help you.”   
  
He takes a deep breath, then, and looks her in the eye. One last shot. She’s confused and scared and angry and he wants to help.   
  
“I thought we had a connection.”   
  
Faith laughs in his face then. It’s a cold sound, absolutely no humour in it. Then she grabs him by the front of his shirt and _throws_ him. He lands on her bed, bouncing once, before settling onto the mattress and she climbs on top of him. No. No, no. Not this - not this again. He’ll go. He’ll just leave. Just, just, please get off of him. Don’t make him feel this again.   
  
“You wanna feel a connection?” Faith asks, hovering over him. “It’s just skin.”   
  
He’s told himself that lie before and it  _hurts_ to hear out loud from someone else - to hear someone else say the words that he whispered to himself every time his father beat the shit out of him, insisting that it’s just a body and whatever happens to it doesn’t have to hurt him inside. The same words that he told himself every other time someone touched him, shoved him around, planning on using him, assaulting him, and leaving an impression that he could never wash all the way off.   
  
She rips open his shirt. He can’t move. He wants to cry, but he can’t even do that.  
  
“I see… I want… I take.”   
  
She kisses him. Hard. He can’t kiss her back. He doesn’t want to. This isn’t sex. This isn’t a connection. This isn’t FUN. It’s just fucking awful and terrifying and he wants to run away or hide in himself. Go somewhere until it’s over.  
  
“I forget.” She says, when she pulls back, still rubbing his chest and shoulders.   
  
He doesn’t understand what she’s doing, why she’s massaging him, and he suddenly realizes that she’s trying to get him _hard_. That’s she’s trying to prove that all he wants is to fuck her, that it doesn’t mean anything to him.   
  
“No. No, wait!” He says, finally finding his voice again. “It was more than that.”   
  
It wasn’t. He starting to get that, now, but he’ll do or say _anything_  to get out of this. He has to get away.   
  
“I could do anything to you, right now, and you want me to. I can make you scream.”   
  
He can’t move, again. He just lies there while she licks her tongue over and around his face before she returns to his lips, and kisses him forcefully, seizing his lower lip between her teeth and pulling at it. It hurts, his lip throbs, and she just keeps pushing his fear to new heights. He’s never been this scared, before. Never, ever. Not when Tony was beating him until he couldn’t get back up. Not when he was facing down every vampire. Not when he was throwing himself at demons. Not when it was him and Jack, facing down a bomb in the boiler room. He’s never seen anyone look as deranged as Faith does.  
  
“I could make you die.” Faith whispers in his ear, saying the words gently as a sweet nothing.  
  
She kisses him again and while she does, she wraps her hands around his neck. When she pulls back, she’s strangling him. She laughs at the sight and kisses him again, never letting up. Just watching him struggle. And _god_  does he struggle. He reaches up with one hand to try and push her off of him while his other hand tries to pry her grip off of him, but he’s no match for a Slayer.   
  
The lack of air makes his head hurt. It makes his everything hurt. Blackness is swimming in the edges of his vision. Faith squeezes harder, watching him. Watching his face change colours and he’s fading out.   
  
He’s gonna die.   
  
His eyes flutter shut.  
  
And then Angel bursts into the room and punches Faith hard in the head.   
  
Xander gasps as soon as Faith slides off of him and off of the bed, slumping onto the floor. And he sits up straight, struggling to get enough air into his lungs to stave off the darkness while Angel stands there, awkwardly, his gaze flicking between Xander and between Faith.  
  
“Xander, are you -”   
  
“Shut the fuck up, Angel,” Xander says, sharply.   
  
He’s not okay. He doesn’t want to be asked if he’s okay. He’s hurt and terrified and the last thing he wants to be is alone in a room with Faith - his would-be killer - and Angel, the guy who’s famous for having done similar shit to dozens of people. No matter how reformed he is.  
  
Angel nods, not looking offended by his harsh words. “I need to take her…”   
  
“Yeah,” Xander says. His voice is rough and strained.   
  
Angel doesn’t make a move toward them, yet.   
  
“Is it okay if I come near you?”   
  
Xander feels a small burst of appreciation for that. But he shakes his head.   
  
“No. Go - go over there. To that corner of the room. Away from the door.”   
  
Angel abides, immediately, crossing the room. Getting out of the way.   
  
Xander scrambles off of the bed, clutching his torn shirt together to hide himself, and then looks back over at Angel.  
  
“Thanks.” He says, hoarsely.   
  
And then he runs like hell into the night, not stopping until he’s home.  
  


* * *

  
He takes six showers before he sees the gang, again. He can wash away the sweat, the shame, and the saliva on his face, but he can’t scrub away the livid bruising on his throat or the ghost feeling of Faith’s touch on him. He wears a high collar shirt when he goes to school, again. He listens to Buffy’s plans to help Faith - to save her from herself. And he says nothing.   
  
They tell him that it was stupid to go by himself. Ask him what happened, and he shows them the bruises… but just says that she attacked him after he told her that he knew that she was the one who killed the deputy mayor.   
  
He doesn’t tell them about her throwing him on the bed. Doesn’t tell them about the horrible things she said, the way she kissed him, the way she loomed over him.   
  
“Xander… I did try to tell you.” Buffy says, gently, when she sees the bruising.   
  
And Xander just nods.   
  
“Yeah, you did.”   
  
But he doesn’t say anything else.   
  
They don’t need to know.


End file.
